Have You Not Been Told Not to Stare?
by 2otherones
Summary: Just a quick story about the first time of Altaïr and Malik. AltMal.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Altaïr was tired and the few pillows in his tough bed were enough to make him feel in the arms of a forgotten heaven. Someone fell heavily in the bed by his side, and he turned to see who it was. With closed eyes and tensed up, Malik was barely purring as the sheets were still setting down after he threw himself over them.

- No one ever told you to not to stare at someone when they're asleep, Altaïr? – the young man grunted.

- Not as long as I remember, brother… - Altaïr smiled slightly to his best friend. –Why? Do I bother you with such repulsive act?

Malik opened his left eye and smiled at his brother: - You know you could never bother me. – his left hand reached for the other's hand. Slowly, but happily, they crossed the fingers, forgetting the world around them, the touch was still enough for the happy young men, and so, they fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Malik woke up sweating and breathing heavily. He has had a nightmare, and he couldn't even remember why he was scared, nor the nature of such dream. Trying to calm himself, the desperate eyes searched for light, but none seemed to be around.<p>

In the same instant Malik started to turn around, searching for some source of light, Altaïr felt it by the touch of his hand. The Assassin woke up and grasped the others hand firmer.

- Malik, what troubles you? – he asked whispering, worried.

- I had a nightmare… I guess. – Malik answered with a trembling whisper.

Altaïr slowly pulled himself to his brother's bed. The hand he used to hold the other Assassin hand now was firmly wrapping Malik's waist. The breaths could be felt in the lips of both men.

- No harm shall reach you while I'm here. – And, again, together, they fell asleep.


	2. The First Look

The First Look

_10 years later, Paradise Gardens_

Malik was sitting calmly, the book resting over his knees. The song of running water was slowly calming his nerves. The last weeks were being a legit storm of paper; the work seemed to have no end. The slight scent of jasmine was caressing his tired, overworked senses. For some delightful moments, he felt in heaven, but, at the same time, this heaven was incomplete. And the Assassin knew exactly what was missing. The chair's back offered amazing support for his own tired back. The ghost of his left arm haunted him for a moment when he felt it scratch.

- It seems to do not change, right, brother? – the voice of his most dearest brother got to his ears and, all of a sudden, his heaven was complete. The whisper, close to his ears, sent a shiver down his spine.

- The Gardens of God, some of them say, I think they will never change, as long as we are here to keep them. – he smiled, turning to where the voice was coming. A satisfied Altaïr, dressed in whites and blacks, stood behind him, looking to the distant line of the orange horizon, full of the sunset.

- Malik, I still remember of that same night when the Apple rolled from Al Mualim's hand and stopped close to my feet, that huge world… simply floating in the air. – the lost horizon of Altaïr gain a focus when he looked down to Malik's face. – You saved me in that same day, saved me from death of those who I once called brothers, the ones lost in disillusion.

The black-eyed Assassin got up and faced his brother, his Master, with a slight smile.

- It seems you owe me this one. – he said, and they started to laugh. Pure and happy laugh, the ones they didn't even remember they could do.

- Walk with me, Malik. – Altaïr said, already going, leading the way.

They walked and talked until the night was high and the starts were the only light; the eternal gazers of the humanity. They laughed and held tears, but in the end, it was only the presence of the other that mattered. When the Assassins were sure they sought everything the Gardens had to show, they went back to the Castle, going upstairs to, as Malik suggested, "continue the talk in privacy". But the first thing they did was to sit on two small chairs, close to each other, turned to the large window, looking to the sky. Altaïr seemed lost in thoughts, but he couldn't see anything, only the starts lighting the Gardens, and his thoughts were so immerged in the talk he had had with his best friend, that he didn't even realized Malik was staring at him, until the very moment when he went to do the same.

- No one ever told you to not to stare at someone, Malik? – he grunted, and Malik answered with a smile.

- No one as long as I can remember. – both smiled at the old joke. As if by reflex, the dark haired Assassin tried to reach the other's hand with his own.

But the same other grabbed his arm, and, before he could even react, they had their faces so close together that he could feel every light breath of Altaïr, pounding against his lips.

- No harm shall reach you while I'm here. – the Master whispered, right before touching the black eyed Assassin's lips with his own.

The kiss revealed to be a desire of what Malik ever wanted, since the very first night Altaïr said such words. He delivered himself, all of his love, all of his desire, lying in hungry lips.

- Altaïr… should we not… finish this… in your bedroom? – the brunet Assassin said it in heavily breathing between the passionate kisses.

- I… agree. – the Master answered in same circumstances.

They let go each other, hesitantly, and rushed to the Master's room. It was not as big as someone could ever imagine. It had only a desk and a chair leaning against the left wall, and by their side a small closet, in the opposite wall there was a big window with a vase full of pink flowers over it. The bed, parallel to the door, was big, a legit double bed with a large quantity of pillows.

- I've made some improvements since the last bed we shared. – Altaïr said, smiling, shutting the door right after his brother, now lover, entered in the room. Grabbed the other's arm and, with the free one, wrapped his waist, gently throwing him onto the bed.

- What are… - Malik intruded himself, Altaïr was undressing himself, only his pants remained, already. And he rushed to do the same.

As they laid naked, with ranging fire in their hearts, the desire was getting just stronger than them. And the kisses went to necks and chests, and as Malik lied impaled, he simply whispered: "_My Altaïr…_" and the world had finally become a heaven to both of them.


End file.
